


Slowly but Surely

by theonewiththeredhood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agender!Cas, Alternate Universe - High School, Anna (Supernatural) - Freeform, Anorexia, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Asexual!Castiel, Bisexual!Dean Winchester, Castiel has an Eating Disorder, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Eating Disorders, Gender Dysphoria, HS!AU, How Do I Tag, M/M, Not Beta'd, Queer!Castiel, Self-Harm, Unbeta'd, body dyphoria, chuck shurley - Freeform, getting better, high schoool!AU, junior!Cas, nb!Cas, nonbinary!Cas, senior!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:46:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonewiththeredhood/pseuds/theonewiththeredhood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Milton is a 16 year old junior in high school, struggling with gender identity, self-harm, and an eating disorder.  Dean Winchester is an 18 year old senior in high school, suffering from senioritis, a secret love for reading and geeky things while being star batter for the baseball team, and an alcoholic father.  Can they work together to get through high school, or will the weight of the world grow too heavy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd. My apologies for all errors.

Castiel had rolled out of bed at 6:49, and he needed to leave by 7:00 to get to school on time.  Today was his first day of his junior year of high school, a year he’d been told, as he’d been told about his sophomore and freshman year, would be the hardest of his entire high school career.  He groaned, running his hands through his hair.  Fuck, his bedhead was going to give him a lot of trouble.  He glanced at the clock and groaned again.  Fuck!  Did he even have time to take a shower _and_ attempt to fix it?  It was the first day of school.  Did he want to not try, get to school on time, and not make a good first impression on any of his new teachers, or did he want to try, potentially not get to school on time, and make only one or two bad first impressions with the teachers whose classes to which he’d be late?  He couldn’t waste too long thinking.

“Fuck it.” He grumbled, pushing himself up from the bed and itching at his bare stomach as he walked to the bathroom to wet his hair.  Surely, that would be good enough.

He turned on the shower and ducked his head under it, hissing at the cold water against his scalp.  At least he was awake now.  After his entire head was thoroughly soaked, he grabbed a towel to dry off his skin and dry his hair quickly.  _Whatever_ , he thought to himself as he looked at his reflection in the mirror.  He tore himself away when his eyes slipped from his not-quite-long-enough hair to his square jaw.  Not going to focus on **that** this morning.

He left the bathroom and headed to his room to change out of his pajama pants.  Slacks, black sneakers, and a champagne colored button-up.  He didn’t particularly like the way he dressed for school, but it looked okay, so he didn’t voice any complaints to anyone about his style.  Castiel sighed, not emotionally ready for the school day as he grabbed his bag before getting into his used car and driving to school.

The day was long, and Castiel had not been entirely present for it.  He took notes, sat through classes without causing trouble, and finished homework, but he wasn’t really **doing** anything.  He hated that.  He left school with no homework, as usual, and headed to his car to turn in his applications for local jobs.

Castiel had been planning on applying for jobs around town for a few days.  He was 16 and had recently gotten his license, and he thought that maybe if he got a job he’d feel like there was purpose to his life.  He was hoping he’d get a job at the local pet store, or maybe even the movie theatre, and he’d finished the applications to those establishments and a few others the night before. 

After Castiel had turned in a few applications, he felt the familiar clench of hunger in his stomach.  His grit his teeth against it, walking in the cool August weather to his car.  He dropped off a few more applications before heading home.

When he headed inside, Castiel had two large glasses of water in the kitchen before lugging his bookbag upstairs.  He sat it down inside his room and shut the door behind him.  He grabbed a book from his bookshelf before heading to his bed to read.  It would hopefully keep him from brooding over whether or not he’d be called in for an interview anywhere.

At around six, Gabriel headed upstairs to call Castiel down to dinner.  “C’mon, baby brother,” he’d said, unaware of how the last word made the Castiel’s skin crawl, “it’s time for dinner!”

Castiel frowned over the book at his brother.  “I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat dinner.” Gabriel said, leaning against the doorframe.  “Come on.”

Castiel shook his head, “I’m **not** hungry.” He insisted.

Gabriel shook his head, “Whatever, man.  It’ll be in the kitchen if you get hungry.”  Gabriel slammed the door behind him as he went downstairs to eat with their sister and parents.

Castiel sighed, rolling onto his stomach and trying to ignore the hunger clawing at his stomach.  He was hungry.  He didn’t want to eat.  He was afraid of becoming fat, and therefore undesirable.  He hated his body enough all ready, though he was trying to ignore it.

Castiel got up and walked a circle around his room, smacking his lips as he did.  He could go for some water, but he knew if he went down to get it, he’d cave and eat.  He couldn’t do that.  Castiel sighed, taking a deep breath before heading to the bathroom near his room.  He couldn’t risk even smelling the food, after all.  He drank from the faucet with his hands, and once he was quenched, he held his breath back to his room.

Castiel shut the door behind him, not bothering to turn on the overhead light and opting for the desk light next to his bed.  He laid down and finished his book.  He finished at around ten o’clock, and he could hear his father, Chuck Shurley, calling for him and his siblings to go to sleep.  He sighed, turning off the light and slipping out of his clothes into just his boxers before slipping under the covers and slowly drifting to sleep.

It had been almost a two weeks since he’d put in applications, and he hadn’t been contacted by any of the businesses about an interview.  That really lowered his self-worth.  He wasn’t even good enough to be put to work.

It was the Saturday after school had started, and he was done with his junior year all ready.  He’d finished his homework for the weekend, and he had nothing he could think of to do.  He headed to the bathroom to take a shower, and after he’d stripped out of his clothes, he caught site of himself in the mirror.

He scowled, glaring at his reflection.  Patchy stubble was coming in, darkening his cheeks, chin, upper lip, jaw, and neck.  He sighed angrily, getting out shaving cream and a razor.  No way was he going to let something he could fix make him uncomfortable.  He lathered his stubble with the cream carefully.  Though he was eager to get the stubble gone, he didn’t want his face to still look scratchy or bad.  He carefully shaved his face, checking several times to make sure he hadn’t missed anything before he cleaned up the sink and his things before getting into the shower.  He showered quickly, not wanting to spend too much time looking at his ribs or his dick or his hairy legs.  When the shower was done, he decided he was going to shave his legs for the first time.

He was doing well until he was about halfway done with his second leg.  He cut his shin accidentally, and he cursed under his breath as he got a wad of toilet paper to press to the injury.  He took deep breaths, closing his eyes and staying calm.  Cuts and pain always freaked him out.  A few minutes later, Castiel opened his eyes and pulled the paper away.  It wasn’t too bad.  He cleaned off his leg and continued shaving, nicking a few other places on his leg, and then doing it in different places on his other leg so it matched.  It kind of helped him relax, in a way.  It was similar to punishing his body for being wrong.

He rinsed off his newly hairless legs.  He rubbed his hands over them, grinning.  He was actually comfortable in his body.  He got out of the shower, finally, and wrapped himself in his plush robe and picked up his pajamas.  He walked back to his room and put the pajamas in his hamper.  He put on a pair of old, short, and ratty, pajama shorts.  He went up to his room, putting on a tank top Anna had thought she’d thrown away a couple months ago.  He tied it up, threading the bottom through the top and tying it.  He didn’t dwell too long on why he’d done it in the first place, but he liked the way the clothing made him feel.  He sat behind his desk, blocking himself from the door so he could get the tank off without being caught if someone came in, and got out his notebook.

Castiel wrote okay-ish poetry in his spare time, but he also actively told himself that it wasn’t good, and it would never be important.  He could only manage to write for about a half hour a day.  He put the notebook in his desk, and then got out his laptop.  He bit his lip, looking down at himself, at what he was wearing.  He remembered the skin-crawling feeling he’d gotten when he saw the stubble on his face.  He fleetingly thought of how uncomfortable he was with his genitals even existing.

He was ashamed before he’d typed it.  “I feel weird when I grow facial hair, I hate my dick, and I wear effeminate clothes.  Am I normal?”  Castiel felt his stomach sink when the second result was a YouTube video titled “How Do I Know If I’m Transgender?”  Castiel shook his head.  He wasn’t a girl.  He couldn’t be a girl.  He didn’t want boobs, or to wear makeup, or a vagina.  He didn’t want genitals at all.  He bit his lower lip and searched for something else.  “No genitals trans” would surely come up with something closer to what he felt, right?  Wrong.  Most results were about sexually transmitted diseases.  His stomach rolled.  Sex was disgusting.  It was dirty, loud, messy.  Castiel couldn’t imagine a way he could enjoy it, not that he even thought about it often.

Castiel sighed.  Maybe he was trans?  He might as well look up what it was.  He didn’t really know much about it.  He learned that trans was when someone was a gender other than the one assigned at birth that typically, in one way or another, fit into the gender binary.  Castiel’s brow furrowed.  Gender binary?  Was there something other than the boy/girl dichotomy?

Castiel worried his lower lip between his teeth.  This was a lot of information for one day.  He didn’t think he could handle if he was not even something included in society at all.  He closed the web browser and shut down his laptop before closing it.  He pulled off his tank top, throwing it on the floor.  He was normal.  He was normal.  He sighed, taking off his shorts and forcing himself to stare at his dick.  That belonged there.  It wasn’t wrong.  It was how it was supposed to be.

Castiel didn’t notice he was crying until his vision was too blurry for him to see his disgusting body anymore.  He hissed.  He was weak.  Of course he wasn’t a boy.  He sat down on the wooden floor, picking at his scabs from shaving earlier.  He picked and picked at his skin.  He should never have shaved.  Castiel’s fingers and legs were smeared with blood by the time he’d finally finished sobbing.  He covered his legs with sweat pants, then headed to the bathroom to wash his hands.

Again, he began to notice the almost ever-present stabbing of hunger in his stomach.  He headed downstairs, glad it was only two and the likelihood that anyone was eating at this time was unlikely.  He got a large glass from the cabinet, and filled it with water.  Anna padded in, barefoot.  She reminded him of the stolen tank top.

“Hi, Cas.” She greeted, opening the fridge and starting to rummage through it.  Castiel turned away, swallowing the last of the water.  Castiel put the glass in the dish washer.

He slipped out without a word.  He couldn’t risk another moment in the kitchen with her hunting lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Finally finished the first chapter of the rewrite!


	2. 2

It was a little over two weeks later, and Castiel had still made no headway in his investigation of his gender, but maybe that was for the best.  He decided being hairless felt best, and, even better, it gave an excuse for the scabs on his legs that he loved to pick.

School was typical.  Boring.  He’d go, take notes, do homework, skip out on lunch to read in the library, then go home.  Over, and over, and over.  Until, one day, someone changed up his schedule.

“Hey, kid!  You’re in my precalc class, yeah?”  Someone dropped their book bag on the table loudly next to Castiel, and he flinched.

Castiel looked up from his book, but he didn’t look at the person speaking to him.  He was busy reading for his AP English class, he didn’t want to be bothered.  “I don’t know.  I think I’d remember the voice of someone who’s as interruptive as you clearly are.”

The kid blushed, and Castiel looked up to see it, eyes narrowing.  Dean Winchester.  He was kind of a local legend, and he was only 18.  He was also loud, bigoted, and made inappropriate sexual comments to the discomfort of countless girls in his class alone.

Castiel sighed, “We’re in the same class.  Why’s that relevant?”

Dean sat down next to him, “Can you tutor me?”

Castiel arched a brow at him, frowning, “I’m not interested in being a part of one of your… “study” groups.”

Dean rolled his eyes, sighing, “C’mon, man…” Castiel grit his teeth to keep from flinching.  “I’ve got a D in the class.”

Castiel snorted, “I’m not surprised. Maybe if you spent time actually paying attention in class instead of trying to get your hand up Lisa’s skirt, you’d learn more.”

Dean gaped at him, “What?  I don’t do that!”

Castiel shushed him, “This is still a library, Winchester.”

Dean shook his head, “Will you help me or not?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, looking Dean up and down for several long moments.  “I suppose.”

Dean grinned, letting out a sigh of relief.  “You’re a lifesaver.”

It wasn’t two weeks after Castiel had made the agreement to tutor Dean that he’d begun to regret it.

“What do you mean we can’t study after school today?”  Dean hissed, speed walking to keep up with Castiel through the hallway.

“I told you.  I have work.”

“Bull shit.  Just last week you talked about how you didn’t have a job.”

Shit, did he?  It was true.  Castiel didn’t have a job.  He was just tired of spending time with Dean.  He hated him.  Castiel could barely get a word in between Dean’s lengthy monologues about women and cars.  It was annoying.  Castiel shrugged, “I’m sorry my life doesn’t revolve around making you happy, Dean.  I’m sure I’m the first.”

Dean huffed a laugh, “You think you’re so smart, huh, Shurley?  Think you know everything about me?”

Castiel rolled his eyes.  Dean was so dramatic for an 18 year old boy.  “I suppose I do.  Doesn’t everyone?”

Dean shook his head.  “No.  No one knows me.  And have fun on your date or whatever tonight, Shurley.  I’ll be cramming for a test on math I don’t understand.”

Castiel sighed, “I can only help you for an hour tonight.  I would like to study for a few AP tests I have tomorrow.”

Dean let out a low whistle.  “Wow, Shurley.  I knew you were a smart kid.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, “I’ve introduced myself as Castiel how many times?”

Dean shrugged, “It’s a mouthful.  I don’t know you well enough to give you a good nickname, do I?”

Castiel shrugged, “Most people do use “Cas.””

Dean nodded, “I see.  Why didn’t you say that, Cas?  Shit, that’s so much quicker than Shurley.  See you at my car after school, Shur—Cas.”

Castiel smiled a bit, waving a goodbye to Dean as he headed into a classroom other than the one to which Dean was headed.

Castiel headed straight to his car, sitting in it and rubbing his scabs through his khakis for a few moments.  He couldn’t pick, and he hadn’t shaved in a while, so he was missing both the comfort of smooth legs and cutting.  Castiel sighed, shaking his head as he pulled out of the lot and headed for Dean’s house.

It was an all right place, two stories with a yard.  It was pretty similar to where Cas lived, though Dean’s house felt warmer.  Castiel speculated whether or not that was because of a close familial bond between Dean, Sam, and John.

Castiel turned off his car, about to get out when Dean pulled into the driveway alongside him.  Castiel waited a beat before opening his door and getting out, grabbing his bag before walking halfway to the porch and waiting for Dean.  He smiled at Dean as he got out, offering Castiel a sheepish smile of his own.  “Thanks, Cas.  I really appreciate your help.”

Castiel shrugged, “Just go unlock the door, Winchester.  I have stuff I want to do after this.”

Dean’s smile fell a bit, and he nodded, heading up the stairs to the porch and unlocking the door.  He opened it and headed in, going straight to the couch and plopping his book bag down in front of him.  Castiel sat next to him, putting his bag on his lap and getting his math homework out of it before setting the bag between his feet.

“All right, Dean.  Do you know what you don’t understand?”

Dean nodded, getting out his own homework to better be able to show Cas his problems. “I don’t understand how you get the numbers under the x and y values,” he said, pointing to where he’d run into trouble in his work.  “Why does it do that?”

Castiel scooted closer, leaning in to look at Dean’s paper, “Well, this is a circle, so there isn’t supposed to be a number under the x or y values.”

Dean laughed a bit, “Oh.”

The whole next hour went that way, Dean explaining his problems, and Castiel helping him solve them.

Dean was… almost pouty when the homework was finished, and Castiel got up to leave.

“Goodbye, Dean.  See you tomorrow.”

Dean nodded, “Yeah, see you, Cas.  … Do you think you could stay for a while?  We could… hang out?”  Smooth, Dean.  Smooth as crunchy peanut butter.

Castiel frowned, playing with the straps on his bag.  It was around six.  Dean’s father should surely be getting home from the autoshop soon, right?  Castiel was observant, and with the way Dean talked about his father, he wasn’t a man the teen was keen to meet.  “Uh, I don’t know if that would be a good idea…”

Dean’s brow furrowed, “What?  Why?”

Castiel shrugged, “Shouldn’t your dad be getting home soon?”

Dean shook his head, “Nah, Thursdays are his Fridays, so he goes out to bars and drinks.  He won’t be back til early tomorrow morning.”

Castiel frowned, “Oh.  Well, I… uh… I suppose I could stay.”  What else did he really have to do?  Go home and pick?  He could do that whenever he got home.  “Dad will be angry if I’m not home for dinner at eight.”

Dean nodded, knowing all too much about fatherly anger.  “That’s all right.  Want to just watch a movie and talk or something?  I’ll pop some popcorn.”

Castiel shook his head, “No, thank you.  I don’t really like popcorn.”

Dean arched a brow, “What?  How can you not like popcorn?  It’s so good!”

Castiel shrugged, “I don’t know.  I just don’t.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Okay, so popcorn and a movie wasn’t a good idea… What do you do for fun?  Do you play video games?”

Castiel nodded slightly, “I play a few.  I’m not terribly good.”  Truly, he played a lot of games, and he was pretty good at them, but for some reason, he feared Dean would tease him if he was truly a nerd in all senses of the word.

Dean grinned, “I got Nuc’ Em Shoot ‘Em 3D.  Do you want to play?”

Castiel couldn’t hold back an eye roll.  Of course Dean played the oh-so-popular shoot ‘em up genre.  Most boys their age did.

“Sure.  I suppose so.  It’s better than just sitting and talking, I’m sure.”

Dean got up and started up the system.  He put in the game and collected the controllers, handing one to Castiel after booting the game up.  “Do you know the controls?”

Castiel nodded, “I’m familiar.”  As much as he hated war games, and the idea of war in general, sometimes he couldn’t resist the allure of just shooting the fuck out of people who weren’t real.  He figured it was natural.  He didn’t think much about it.

Dean was even better at the game than he was, so much more so that he didn’t really notice that Castiel too was rather adept at the game.

They two played for an hour and a half, losing track of time playing mindless missions to kill the enemy.

Castiel jumped up when he checked the time on his phone, and it was 7:30.  “I need to go!” he said, scrambling to collect his things.

Dean frowned, “All ready?  It’s only… Shit, do you live far from here?”

Castiel pressed his lips into a firm line, “A while from here.  I’ll be fine though.  Goodbye, Dean.  See you tomorrow!”  Castiel rushed out of the door, almost running to his car before jumping in and heading home.

Castiel barely got home on time, narrowly avoiding a scolding from his father.  Chuck was still concerned about where Castiel had been, but his concern seceded when Castiel explained he’d been tutoring Dean.  Castiel made an excuse that he’d eaten dinner with Dean and his family before excusing himself up to his room.

He couldn’t wait any longer.  He pulled his pants off as soon as he’d shut his door, and he started tearing at the scabs.  He needed the relief removing one would provide him.  He craved it.  His desires were only fulfilled once he’d picked at least ten scabs and blood was smeared over his legs.

He sighed.  He wasn’t going to risk staining his bed sheets with blood, so he headed to the bathroom quickly and started to shower.  He went ahead and shaved, taking the liberty to give himself a few more scabs-to-be.  When he got out of the shower, he tended his wounds and dried off.  Nothing was as pleasing as the feeling of running water over his wounds.  He ran his legs over his hairless legs.  It was like a significant weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

Castiel wrapped himself in a robe and headed to his room.  He put on some briefs then got out his school books, fully intending to study for his exam before he finally fell asleep.

Castiel was able to study for two of his tests before he passed out with his face in one of his text books.  When he woke the next day he, luckily, hadn’t drooled at all in his sleep, leaving the page he’d used as a pillow dry.  He got up and shut the books, putting them in his bag before checking the clock.

He hadn’t slept in today.  Good.  Castiel got ready and headed for school, arriving early.  He tested as well as he could, but of course he felt the gnawing in his gut that he’d done terribly, and because of his poor grades he wouldn’t go to college. 

The anxiety followed him throughout his day, even through his and Dean’s study session in the library.  Castiel didn’t even brighten up when Dean invited him to the baseball game that night.  Castiel had the manners to accept, but he wasn’t really excited.  Watching sports typically bored him.  Castiel decided that he could at least give baseball a chance, at least for Dean’s sake, and assured Dean he’d be in the front.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: questioning of legitimacy of nb genders, [internalized] homophobia, anorexia
> 
>  
> 
> I really don't like this chapter.

The ball game wasn’t terrible. Nor was it terribly interesting. Castiel found his eyes drawn to Dean’s ass in his uniform’s pants more than he’d have liked. It made his stomach twist in disgust. It wasn't like him to stare at people like that. Anyone. He ran a hand through his hair, watching Dean hit yet another ball before dropping his bat and running. He tugged his hair to keep himself focused on Dean’s running and not his ass.  
Castiel cheered when Dean did well, and booed when Dean seemed to be upset about what was happening. A lot of his understanding of what was transpiring was from Dean’s expressiveness. It was truly astounding how well Castiel could understand his expressions from the stands while Dean was on the field. It didn’t hurt that when something bad happened Dean would take his hat off and punch it at least once before putting it back on. At least it made the game clearly easier to follow.  
It wasn’t very long until the game was over, and Dean’s team won. Castiel cheered, hooting and hollering and showing his support. He was actually proud of Dean and the team or winning. Castiel wasn’t sure if Dean wanted to see him after the game, so Castiel remained in the stands playing a game on his phone as he waited. If Dean looked for him, Dean would certainly find him.  
It was a few minutes before Castiel heard footsteps on the metal bleachers nearing him. He looked up from his phone, then smiled at the newcomer.  
“You were great.” Castiel said, looking down at his phone to close the app and put his phone in his pocket.  
Dean grinned, and Castiel’s heart caught when he saw how Dean’s freckled skin seemed to glow in the setting sun.  
“Thanks.” Dean said, smoothing his hands on his thighs as he sat next to Cas. “Did you like the game?”  
Castiel nodded, clasping his hands in his lap. “It was really, uh… interesting? I liked to watch you play. You’re really passionate about the game.”  
Dean nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah. I really like baseball. I practice hard to play hard.”  
Castiel grinned, “Your work shows when you play. Good job.”  
Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “Think that my academics can work the same way?”  
Castiel smiled at Dean, nudging Dean’s shoulder with his own. “I think they can if you just apply yourself. I can tell you’re smart, Dean. I can see it.”  
Dean smiled as his cheeks grew a little pink, “Thanks, Cas. Do you want to, uh, go out for pizza or something? The team’s all bringing their friends and stuff…”  
Castiel was all ready shaking his head, “I’m so sorry. I, uh, I ate a big lunch.”  
Dean’s brow furrowed, “No you didn’t. You don’t even eat lunch, Cas. We study together during lunch. Remember?”  
Castiel paled, his eyes widening. “Yeah. I meant that I went out for food right after school let out. I’m not hungry. I’m sorry.”  
Dean frowned, but he didn’t push. “Oh, all right. If you say so.”  
Castiel patted Dean’s shoulder as he stood, wobbling a bit on his feet because he’d stood too quickly. He hadn’t eaten nearly enough in the past few days, and he was getting woozy.  
Dean pressed his lips together, “Are you sure you don’t want to get pizza?”  
Castiel took a deep breath, shaking his head. “Gotta go home. I have work to do.”  
Dean frowned, “Cas, buddy, I don’t think you’re in any condition to drive home.”  
Castiel huffed, “I can too. You can’t stop me.”  
Dean stood, crouching a bit to look Cas in the eyes. “Did you really eat today?”  
Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean, “No. I was too anxious to eat.”  
Dean nodded, “Okay. Are you too anxious now?”  
Castiel shook his head a little. “No…”  
Dean smiled, “Will you go out and eat with me?”  
Castiel shook his head again, forcing himself to let go of Dean. “No. I’m going home.”  
Dean frowned, “I don’t think you’re healthy enough for that right now. If you come eat with me, actually eat, Cas, I think you’ll be better.”  
Castiel huffed, “You’re stubborn.”  
Dean quirked one side of his mouth up into half a smile. “Get it from my mom. Are you coming?”  
Castiel sighed, “I hate pizza…”  
Dean’s eyes widened, and he gawked at Cas. “Whoa, man, seriously?”  
Castiel nodded, “It’s too greasy. It’s unhealthy”  
Dean wrinkled his nose, “You don’t like greasy pizza, huh?” He chose to ignore the fact that Cas’s bigger complaint seemed to be that it was unhealthy. He also endeavored not to speculate that maybe he had an eating disorder. Dean wasn’t stupid. He knew that no guy their age was supposed to be as thin as Castiel was. Dean felt his heart break a little. He always cared too much about people.  
Castiel shook his head, “Greasy pizza is nasty.”  
Dean nodded, “All right. Well the place I’m going doesn’t have greasy pizza.”  
Castiel shook his head, “I’m not eating it.”  
Dean sighed, “You gotta eat something, Cas.”  
“No.” Castiel said stubbornly. He didn’t want to eat. He’d been doing so well.  
Dean sighed, “Cas…” Dean’s eyes lit up. “Wait! I have a granola bar in my bag. Will you eat that?”  
Castiel chewed his lower lip, looking down at his feet as he thought about it. Granola was healthy, right? It wouldn’t be too bad to eat a little something. “If I eat it, can I go home?”  
Dean nodded, “Yeah.”  
Castiel nodded, “I’ll eat it then.”  
Dean fished the bar out of his bag, offering it to him. Castiel narrowed his eyes at it before taking it, unwrapping it, and eating it.  
Castiel licked his lips. That was so good. It was the first real food he’d had in a couple of days. “Are you going to permit me to go home now, Winchester?”  
Dean rolled his eyes and nodded, “Yeah, Cas. Take care of yourself. Drive safe.”  
Castiel rolled his eyes, then. “You drive safely as well, Dean. See you Monday.”  
Dean patted Castiel’s shoulder and headed off to his car. Castiel followed behind, shoving the wrapper in his pocket until he found a trash can at the exit to the ball park and tossed the wrapper in. Dean and Cas soon parted ways after getting to the parking lot. Dean had parked a lot closer to the field while Cas had a spot pretty far away.  
When Castiel got home, he had two tall glasses of water before going up to his room. Everyone in his family was going about their own business, paying no mind to Castiel. Not that he minded, he preferred when his family didn’t pester him.  
Castiel headed up the stairs and to his room, his mind starting to buzz. He was attracted to Dean. He’d never really been attracted to anyone before. He didn’t care, it didn’t bother him, but it was pretty nerve-wracking that it’d suddenly changed.  
What did this mean for him gender-wise? Was he a girl? He didn’t feel like a girl. But girls like boys, and he liked boys, so did that make him a girl? Maybe he was gay? But he couldn’t be gay because he didn’t feel like a boy, really, either. Shit. Castiel ran a hand through his hair, sighing. What did all of this mean? Who was he?  
He got out his laptop and googled ‘neither a boy or a girl.’ Most of his results were information about intersex babies. As intriguing as it was, it wasn’t what he was looking for. He thought for a moment, watching the cursor blink slowly. ‘No gender’ he slowly typed, realizing that it was a very good way to describe how he felt. He found a Washington Post article about someone who had a similar gender experience. He read it once. He read it again. Agender. That’s how they identified. That’s how he felt. Could this be it? Is this who he is?  
‘Agender’ was Castiel’s next search. There was page after page of results. Agender, non-binary, genderqueer. All these different terms that could and maybe did describe his gender was too much to handle all at once. He took a deep breath and read the wiki article about agender. Castiel smiled. He found something that fit. He was non-binary and agender. Okay. Castiel swallowed hard and closed his browser before shutting down his laptop. He was non-binary and agender, sure, if either of those things were real.  
Maybe he was faking it. Maybe it was just a phase. Castiel sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and groaning when he felt stubble on his chin and jaw. It was so wrong. He shook his head. It wasn’t real. He was a boy. He was a boy, and he didn’t like Dean, and he was normal. There was nothing wrong with him. There was nothing wrong with him.  
Castiel struggled to breathe, curled up in the seat at his desk and crying. There was nothing wrong with him. He was a perfectly normal boy. He walked over to his bed and sat down, taking a deep breath. He had to be a boy, and he was going to fall in love with a girl and have sex with her, and they’d have a family and have a beautiful life together. That’s what he had to do, right?  
That’s all he’d ever known. The idea of him identifying, of him being, something other than what his religious family expected of him was terrifying. He shook his head, trying to shake the idea from his head even though he knew it was an inevitable truth. Maybe if he started being more masculine he’d start to feel normal again. This only really started when he’d paid attention to how he’d acted, really. He could just ignore himself being masculine again, and everything would be fine. Everything had to be fine.  
Castiel curled up above the comforter on his bed, picking at scabs and trying to level out his breathing. Guys didn’t freak out about stuff like this. Men were always in control of their emotions, and he was a man, wasn’t he? Of course he was. He was the manliest man of all men, more masculine than football players and pro-wrestlers. Of course.  
And he most certainly didn’t like boys. He didn’t like boys, and he didn’t like Dean Winchester. He was never going to talk to him again. Castiel was no longer going to help Dean study, or try to be friendly with him, or awkwardly give him advice with girls even though he doesn’t know the first thing about girls.  
He was also going to start talking to girls, he decided. He could start with that Meg girl, who kept eyeing him up every time they were in the same vicinity. He didn’t know her at all, just her name, but maybe he could get to know her and be her friend. Maybe he and Meg would become an item. The idea of that totally didn’t make his stomach turn. He wanted Meg to be his girlfriend. He wanted Meg to be his girlfriend. Maybe if he repeated it to himself enough, it would be true.  
Castiel covered his face with his pillow and kicked his legs about on his bed. He didn’t know the first thing about girls. What was he going to do? Did he talk to girls the same way he talked to boys? If he did, how would they know he was straight and not gay, not gay, not gay? How was he supposed to know how to talk to girls? He’d never been interested in them before, but he wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be gay because he wasn’t a boy. No, he was a boy, and he was straight. That’s how it was supposed to be. Castiel curled up, his thoughts running in tortuous circles until he fell asleep.


	4. Sadly, this is not an update D:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Update on my personal life tbh

It's been a while, huh? No worries, I'm just gonna tear this story apart and restart it from scratch because it has been so long since I've approached it. I accidentally locked myself out of this account, and had thought I'd abandon the story until I miraculously recalled the password to this account. Amazing. Expect an update within the year, starting over with a rewrite of chapter 1. I'm so, so sorry. Please forgive me. I appreciate your patience.


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